


First Five Meetings

by Cookiemonster2000



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Any and all of these can be platonic if you so wish, F/M, Kanaya is a reporter, Karkat is a superhero, Terezi is the HS Superhero AU version of Daredevil, haha that was an insincere statement and also a spoiler, or is she, relationships open for interpretation, starring Eridan as easily defeated and ridiculous villain, starring Gamzee as the villain who gets taken out by the FUCKING MARY SUE UGH, superhero au, that is pretty much the only thing about this fic that isn't up for interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookiemonster2000/pseuds/Cookiemonster2000
Summary: He was vocal. She was controlled.He was passionate. She was driven.He was a superhero, and she was a reporter.Just another story of the confused budding relationship of two individuals, trying to find their way in the world.





	First Five Meetings

The first time he came across her, it was a complete accident.

 

Fighting that stupid Hope Destroyer with the stupid science wand and his stupid ability to shoot white hot laser beams on a rooftop was hardly Karkat's idea of a fun Saturday afternoon. But here he was. Fighting Hope Destroyer.

"Blast!" he shouted in his stupid unrecognizable accent as Karkat dodged another one of his shots. "Why are you so nimble?"

"I've had lots of practice dodging scumbags like you," he spat back, ducking below another shot--and suddenly realizing he'd been backed up against a wall.

"Well, this'll be your last session!" The caped villain flicked his wrist and sent a beam hurtling directly at his chest.

As if in slow motion, Karkat leapt directly up, desperate to escape the death ray--

\--tangled up in the clothesline stretched out on the upper balcony, and dropped like a stone between the buildings.

" _AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH_!"

Karkat only had a half of a second to realize that he was _actually_ about to die as he plummeted towards the concrete. In a wild moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, and his brain screamed, _This is the end! Better luck in your next life!_

A sudden jerk of impact knocked the wind out of him and left him hanging upside down. He kept his eyes shut tight as the blood rushed to his head. 

"Um. . . Knight of Blood?" a careful female voice inquired.

Regret flooded his entire being. He could've done so much better with his life, he really fucked up where it mattered most! "I'm sorry!" he cried desperately. "I really hurt Teal Judgement when I didn't show up at her awards acceptance speech even though I had to rescue her stupid boyfriend from being murdered by her archenemy's mind-controlled puppet boy! And, the other day, when I told my neighbor I was busy, I was actually in the middle of my third annual viewing of _The Princess Bride_ but was too selfish to spend time with him--"

"Are you all right?" The voice cut in again, concerned. "You had quite the fall, but that man is still up there destroying property, and--"

Karkat's eyes popped open. "I'm not dead?" he gasped.

"No, you're not." The speaker was revealed to be a young, olive-toned woman with a dark pixie cut and deep jade eyes. She looked slightly familiar to the dazed, dizzy superhero, but before he could speak, she piped up again. "But I think others _are_ going to be, soon, so--"

"Oh, shit!" Karkat yelped, suddenly remembering the supervillain on the rooftop. He wiggled and tried reach out, but found himself completely immobile tangled in the line. "Um. . . a little help, please?"

"Certainly." The lady reached up and began tugging on a loose string.

"It's. . . a bit tightly wound." she said after a moment of fruitless efforts.

"Great." he groaned. "Just great."

"Hang on a moment, I believe I have some scissors in my-- ah, here they are." When Karkat had opened his eyes again, she was brandishing a pair of silver scissors, which she delicately lifted and used to begin expertly snipping away at his bonds.

After a few seconds, the remaining clothesline gave way, sending Karkat crashing to the ground in a heap on top of the helpful bystander.

"OW!"

" _Oof_!"

"Oh, shit, sorry!" he cried, leaping up and offering his hand.

She blinked and shook her head. "Get to the roof!" she exclaimed urgently.

"Oh. Yeah." And with that, Karkat turned and yanked out his twin sickles, scrambling up the side of the building.

 

When it occurred to him to say thank you, he was tying up the supervillain. By the time he had gotten back to the street, the woman was gone.

 

The second time he caught sight of the woman, it was later that same day from a nearby rooftop. He was staring intently at her as she reported the remains of the morning's scene with her camera crew.

"Pretty lucky they weren't there to catch your little trip on tape," an amused voice piped up behind him.

He didn't even turn to look.

"Hey, Teal."

"Sup, Blood? Aside from falling off buildings, that is." The masked girl laughed again as she lightly dropped down beside her off-again-on-again-friend-rival. Setting down her cane, she propped her chin up with her hands and cackled. "Shouldn't you leave that kinda thing to the _blind_ chick?"

"Isn't that supposed to be, like, a secret or something?" Karkat asked incredulously. Normally the superhero was extremely secretive about that specific flaw--despite being one of the top heroes around. How she managed to take down gangs of thugs single-handedly and leap between rooftops was totally beyond him, but maybe that's why she kept throwing it back in his face.

She pursed her lips. "I mean, you already know, so what's the point?"

"I took down that purple loser today. What's-his-face with the huge cape and huger ego."

"Pssh." She clearly wasn't impressed. "I've taken down guys like that before breakfast."

"Hey, he attacked a friend of mine!"

When she quieted down for a moment or two, Karkat bit his lip, afraid he'd said something wrong. But Teal just nodded.

"These losers will stop at nothing to take us down." she spat.

"Well," he said casually, "the feeling is mutual, isn't it?"

He was rewarded with another one of her wide, delighted grins.

"So who are you ogling down there? Some reporter chick finally catch your eye?"

Karkat spluttered, reddening. "Wh--no!"

"Hmmmm, really? Cause you're looking at that one lady quite a lot." She quirked an eyebrow.

"I can't help but be worried for her safety." he said quietly. "Like you said, they'll stop at nothing to get close to us. . . and she _saved_ me, Teal."

"Hm. She should join the club."

And with a _whoosh_ and a gust of wind that barely ruffled his hair, she was gone.

When he turned his eyes down to the street again, he caught a glimpse of the lady packing up and getting into her news van.

Karkat could have sworn she looked directly at him, and (though he couldn't be sure from such a far distance) smiled.

 

 

The third time he saw her, it was about a week later. He had ducked into an alley to do the old outfit switcheroo, and she'd ducked in a half second after he'd gotten his mask on. He nearly had a heart attack.

"What the fuck, what are you-- _oh_!"

The woman--she was a lot taller than he previously thought-- straightened up and quickly brushed off her skirt. "You should change up your habits a bit," she said scathingly. "This is the third time you've emerged from this same alley in the last few weeks."

"People keep track of that shit?" he asked incredulously.

She gave him a pointed look.

"Right, okay. I'll switch it up. Thanks for the memo." He pulled out his weapons and prepared to take off.

"Wait! Just a moment, please!" she called.

"What is it?" He glanced back over his shoulder.

The normally poised woman was nervously fiddling with the buttons on her fashionable jacket. "Do you think that I could have an interview at some point, when you aren't busy?" she asked quickly. "I really need a sc-- I mean, if you aren't opposed to talking in front of an--"

Karkat was already shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I don't do interviews." He bit his lip. "It's a bit dangerous, gives villains an opportunity. . . raises suspicion. . . And besides, I do what I do to help people and to stop terrible people, not to become famous or whatever." Karkat scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "It's not really in my. . . mission statement," he finished quietly, blushing.

She visibly slumped over. "Oh. All right."

"You understand, right, ma'am?" he begged.

"Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I do. And my name is Kanaya."

Karkat smiled at her, a bit sadly. "Nice to meet you, Miss Kanaya. And, uh, thanks for the help last week. You really saved my skin back there."

She reddened a bit, pleased. "It was nothing."

"Well, I should really be off, so. . ."

"Goodbye. And thank you."

He started.

"Uh, for what?"

She smiled faintly. "For everything."

 

 

The fourth time their paths crossed, he thought she might be the last thing he ever saw.

Karkat was sprawled across the ground, trying to catch his breath--knowing that he wouldn't be in time. His powers were useless-stupid peace-keeping, bond-building, healing powers were useless against someone who'd burned all bridges in his mind. His best friend, turned psycho-clown and given superhuman strength by the toxic sludge, was raising his clubs to above his head, and laughing maniacally.

And behind the killer, in the darkened doorway, there she stood, eyes wide.

 _I'm hallucinating,_ Karkat thought, resigned. _There's no way she'd come in here. . ._

And a half second later, the clown's eyes dulled and he landed sprawled-out on the floor. 

Kanaya stood behind him with a baseball bat raised, her chest heaving.

They stared at one another, both frozen in place.

"You okay?" Karkat asked her when he found the words.

She nodded, dropping the bat and tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

"I'm doing just wonderfully, thank you ever so much for asking. How are _you_ today?"

The sarcasm--the fucking sarcasm, _now_ of all times--broke him. He burst out laughing, a desperate, maniac, I-can't-believe-I'm-alive-what-the-fuck-just-happened laugh. She joined in, her giggle ringing out musically but just as uncontrollably as his.

"Why'd you come in here?" he demanded between aftermath chuckles after the fit had died down. " _How'd_ you come in here?"

"I knew you were alone with that _thing_ and I knew you were going to lose," she explained. "You were acting very strangely around that one. It was obvious to me and anyone else with a brain." She gestured towards the unconscious clown on the floor, collecting dust.

"Yeah. I used to know him. He isn't the same person anymore," Karkat admitted. "Now, as for the _how_. . ."

"I snuck past the police guards." Kanaya shrugged. "When you are in the reporting business, you learn some things about stealth."

"Seriously?"

"No, that was an insincere statement. I am just That Good."

He laughed again. "Apparently you are." 

There was silence for a moment.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Karkat lifted himself up and pulled a coil of rope off his belt, yanking it a ways so he could start to restrain the villain. "And I sure am _lucky_ you are. I'm in your debt again, Kanaya."

"No, not really," she surprised him by saying. "In fact, I would more consider myself to be in yours."

"Huh?"

"This was simply a way for me to try to even the score out a bit."

"Okay, stop. Rewind. All you've done is help me, offer to help me, try to help me." Karkat finished up the knot and turned to the woman, exasperated. "How the _fuck_ am I in your debt?"

"You saved me," she shrugged.

" _How_?" he demanded.

Kanaya sighed. "I've always wanted to be a seamstress. My father wanted me to do something 'worthwhile,' however, and so I've been majoring in journalism."

"That still doesn't--"

"I've switched my major. I'm studying fashion now. You inspired me to do what matters to me, to do what I am passionate about and help others in the ways that I can." Kanaya offered him a tearful smile. "I've just received a job offer at the boutique down on 24th Street."

"Oh, wow, really? That's amazing, congratulations!"

"And I'm thinking of starting my own private business on the down low. Has anyone ever told you that this cape--" she snatched it up and held it up critically "--could get you killed?"

 

 

The fifth time he saw her, it was midnight and he felt extremely uncomfortable out in the open, waiting for her to respond to his knock. As soon as she opened the door a crack, he was dragged unceremoniously into the closed-up shop.

"Ow!" Karkat hissed. "Fucking ow!"

"Oh, don't be an infant."

"We _are_ alone, right?" he demanded. "I wasn't gonna come if--"

"Yes, we are entirely alone, just the two of us. On my honor. Sit here." Kanaya directed him towards the stool.

He sat begrudgingly.

"Now, you are the Knight of Blood, correct?" she asked, peering over her clipboard.

"Yeah." He shifted uncomfortably and silently berated himself. _What a dorky name. Couldn't he have come up with a better name?_

"All. . . right." She scratched down some notes. "And you would like to keep this theme with your new costume?"

"Yes, that'd be nice."

"Shoosh. All right, I can do some callbacks to traditional knight garb. What about the blood aspect?"

"Actually, about that--" he straightened up excitedly. "I had this really cool idea for an insignia, but I could never stitch it on my old costume, so I had to scrap it."

"What was it?"

"It looked like-- can I draw it?"

Wordlessly, she handed him the clipboard.

Karkat scribbled on it for a second, then pressed it into her hands proudly. "Well? What do you think?"

Kanaya studied it approvingly. "Though your art skills could use some serious work--"

"Hey!"

"--this gives me a nice little something to work with. Thank you, Knight."

"Karkat," he blurted.

". . . What."

"My name is Karkat." And without thinking, he took off his mask.

She stared at him, eyes wide.

 

Maybe it was stupid to reveal your secret identity to some practically-stranger. Maybe it was wishful thinking to assume that you'd found a lifelong friend in a somewhat strange, serious woman with an eye for fashion. But hell, something about her was so familiar, so _meaningful,_ that he just couldn't resist.

There was some kind of unexplainable connection, and he was ready to take a risk.

 

"I like it better without the mask," she said softly, and his heart sang.

"But, of course I still need a mask," he coughed, breaking the moment. "It's, kind of a superhero thing."

"No, I'm serious." Kanaya nodded. "That one is dorky and clunky. I'll design you one built into a rust-red hood. It'll be much better looking."

"Oh, way to compliment. Thanks a lot." he growled.

"What?" Kanaya shrugged. "I'm just being honest. . .

"But really, I _do_ like you better without the mask. Thank you for sharing yourself, mister. . .?"

"Karkat," he grinned, sticking out his hand. "Thank you. . . for everything."

"Kanaya," said Kanaya, shaking his hand firmly and smiling a smile that could light up a thousand pitch caverns. "I'm delighted to finally meet you."

**Author's Note:**

> haha can you tell i brainstormed this for about ten-twenty minutes before sitting down and writing this in an hour cause I can


End file.
